Big Girls Have Much More Fun!
“Big Girls” Have Much More Fun.
Marion was a big girl. She had been a big girl ever since her parents and their friends had labelled her a big girl in her infancy. Just what was wrong with saying the words fat, chubby or tubby these days was beyond her. Now it was all: big boned, bubbly, heavy set, and of course ‘big girl’. Marion, like most fat women, was actually more offended by people trying to skirt around this ridiculous language problem. She wasn’t too concerned with being a little overweight and chubby at all. In actual fact she championed the fact, and was forever trying to convince her teenage daughter that the people in the TV shows and teen movies she watched were not real people at all; at least not compared with them. “Many of these people,” she would say, “have teams of personal trainers and nutritionists, not to mention lots of surgery!” Marion often joked that some of these movie stars bought each other new heads for Christmas. It was important to keep her daughter’s feet firmly on the ground when it came to celebrities and aspiring to be like them.
Marion was a single parent. This was because her husband left her for another woman. This woman was a size ten as opposed to Marion’s more curvy size eighteen. She was devastated for a short time after, but when she realised there was no point in making herself miserable in futile attempts to try and get her husband’s attention, she finally fell in love with who she was. To her a size eighteen was perfectly normal. Fifteen year old girls were welcome to size zero, in her experience the real men went for the bigger, more womanly figures. This discovery made her inner confidence give her an added shine at parties, when she always looked fabulous. Her size never prevented her from wearing anything she wanted either. She didn’t bother with those clothes designed to make women look thinner, she showed off what she had and the men loved it. By far her greatest assets were her big boobs and big round ass; every man she had encountered commented on these. She had a fabulous pair of boobs and she was proud; any woman would envy them. Marion would often be seen wearing low cut tops that allowed her multitude of necklaces and pearls to plunge into her dark welcoming cleavage; they were strategically placed to direct the eyes of her male admirers. This was not all. She would also wear the tightest skirts imaginable. They would hug her big, wide ass, and celebrate its shape and the ripples of flesh where it met with her large, yet well proportioned waist.
Marion never had to try hard to get her man, they usually came to her. She never really took any of them very seriously anymore however, they were used for sexual relief and that was about it; that and maybe a free lunch or two. However there was one man in particular who she did take seriously. He was the only man since her disastrous marriage that she could truly say she had fallen for. His name was Peter, and Marion met him at her best friend’s wedding party. They hit it off immediately, and he wasn’t like the other men; he had a good look at her body, but he didn’t find it her only point of interest. He was engrossed with her entirely, and they both found their personalities so compatible that there was no getting away from the fact that they had to see whatever it was between them through to the end.
“I’m amazed I haven’t met you before Marion,” said Peter with a smile, “Cheryl never told me she had such a nice friend. I am her cousin.”
“She never told me she had such a nice cousin,” answered Marion with a big laugh that attracted the attention of the table next to them. She put out her arm and patted his leg. Instantly she felt something between them, like the nervousness between a couple of pre-pubescent kids when they get off with each other for the first time and don’t know how to control themselves, or what to do first. She wanted to push her hand a little further up his leg and feel the bulk of his thigh through the soft material of his flared trousers. The smile left her lips as soon as she realised this. This feeling had become almost alien to her. She guessed that Peter felt the same because he fidgeted and inadvertently glanced at her enormous cleavage. She saw him and he looked uncomfortable when he noticed her watching. “It’s alright Peter. Really, I am quite used to it,” she chuckled, trying desperately to make him feel at ease about it.
“Sorry,” he said, “would you like another drink Marion; I’m off to the bar?” For a moment or two she thought she had lost him, and it surprised her to be thinking this way; usually she wouldn’t give a damn.
“Yes I would, thank you. I’ll have scotch on the rocks please,” she said, sitting a little more upright so her huge boobs weren’t begging Peter to screw them just for one second. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her choice of drink and walked slowly off to the bar.
Marion watched him move away from her, stopping every now and then to say hello to people he knew. She admired his physique. He wasn’t what she would consider overly muscular, from what she could tell, and he even had a bit of belly on him, but he was certainly all man; a great big, lovely, tall slice of man. He was wearing the standard kind of outfit for men at these occasions (they really did lack imagination sometimes) but it looked as though he favoured flared trousers. These didn’t usually do it for Marion, but they certainly looked good on him, particularly as they went tight at the knee and hugged his thighs and crotch. On his way back to the table she could clearly see the sizeable bulge in his trousers. His suit jacket was open and his white cotton shirt was tucked in, giving everyone a lovely view of this prize package. She squinted as he got to the table and actually thought she saw his dick down the right side of his thigh, squashed against his leg; it was quite clear that he wasn’t wearing any underpants or shorts. She wanted to reach out and discretely touch it as he went to take his seat. However, cunning as she was, Marion deliberately moved her chair around a little so that Peter had to do that comical breath in, arms in the air type squeeze, as he moved between their table and the one next to them. Marion put her elbow on the back of her chair in mock aloofness at just the right height to feel the length of his cock rub against her. She almost swooned. Marion had never wanted a cock so much as she did right there and then.
“There!” said Peter, slamming two glasses onto the table as he finally took his seat, “two scotch on the rocks. A woman after my own heart,” he laughed.
“Not all I am after,” said Marion, not realising she was talking her thoughts for a second. Peter looked at her with his glass paused to his lips for a second. “Oh god! Did I say that out loud?” she asked, flushing red at the thought.
“You didn’t mean to?” Peter laughed. “Well I am flattered anyway.” He took a sip of his whiskey and added under his breath, “The feeling’s mutual.” She smiled at the mock look of amazement on his face as he shot his head up straight like a mere cat sniffing the air and said , “oh my god! Did I just say that out loud?”
It was clear that they were both, rather paradoxically, equally as relaxed as they were nervous with each other; they found it very easy to get on, but they didn’t want to look foolish. Peter was really beginning to relax, no doubt aided by his last scotch on the rocks. He put his foot up on the chair beside Marion and then quickly removed it. “Sorry!” he said in mortification, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I don’t mind,” laughed Marion, “I’d do it myself but I think I would get thrown out,” she said, indicating the tantalising length of her skirt. She had on a short red skirt that was tight around her big ass, and it allowed her big, tanned, smooth legs to be on show. Peter clearly liked the look of them.
“I see,” he said lingering on her exposed skin. He put his leg back up and they continued chatting. Before long Marion became quite tactile with Peter, and she kept touching his leg during their conversation. This is going quite well, she thought to herself, he isn’t moving his leg out the way; she looked into this eyes to double check that she hadn’t spoken out loud again.
“I like your flares,” she said. She touched the bell bottom end of them and circled her index finger around the arc of them before pinching the material between her fingers to feel the quality. “They’re very soft.”
“Yeah, thanks. Not many people like them anymore, but I can’t get enough,” he said, clearly loving the attention. Marion took her fingers away from his trousers and touched the skin underneath them, just above where his sock ended. She looked him in the eye, raised her eyebrow and tilted her head to the side as if to tell him that he had no choice in this matter. He didn’t flinch. His legs were very hairy. She toyed with the hairs between her fingers and pushed her hand a little further up his trouser leg, stroking his skin. Neither of them spoke. It looked as though Peter was pretty game, she thought, because all he was doing was checking to see who might be watching. He felt good; strong and soft, all at the same time. Marion circled her fingers around the back of his leg to caress his calf muscle, and then she moved a little further up to find the soft, sensitive area at the back of the knee. However, when she tried to go any further, she was prevented by the tightness of the trousers. She was surprised at herself for even attempting to go further, but she had been taken over by an uncontrollable desire to get her hands on his cock and rip of her own clothes.
“Uncle Pete! Uncle Pete!” said a little voice from next to the table. Marion’s hand shot out of Peter’s trouser leg like a rat out the bottom of a drainpipe.
“Jesus Christ! Kevin, what the hell’s the matter with you,” said Peter, coming back to his senses grumpily. Marion sat back and grabbed her scotch.
“Do you want to dance Uncle Pete? They’re going to put the time warp on later!” said the six year old Kevin excitedly.
“Maybe later boy,” said Peter, grabbing Kevin and giving him a big hug, “right now I need a jimmy riddle!” Kevin laughed a ran off as Peter got up from his chair.
“I think I need to go to,” said Marion, “can you show me where?”
“Sure,” said Peter adjusting himself and his trousers. Marion was sure he had a semi-erect cock in there. “Just ahead, over there look,” said Peter pointing the way.
Marion could feel him watching her ass move across the dance floor towards a corridor on the other side of the room. She put a little more swing in it especially for him. This was yet another bonus of having such a big ass; it shook so wonderfully defined. When they had finally made their way through the throng of revellers on the dance floor they arrived outside the toilet and both looked at each other. “Alright, I didn’t know that,” said Peter opening the door marked toilet. When he opened it there was a toilet cubicle, a small space, a wash basin and mirror. “After you,” he said chivalrously taking a bow.
“No, you said you needed it first,” said Marion.
“No, I insist,” he pressed.
“Oh for goodness sake Peter,” said Marion, dragging him by the arm and shoving him through the door, “we’ll go in together and take turns.” She laughed, and they both entered the small room. Marion locked the door behind them. Peter was a little embarrassed. “You go first, I don’t need it anyway,” laughed Marion. Peter just obeyed. He went into the cubicle and relieved himself.
“So why did you come in here?” he asked from behind the safety of the door, “you should something Marion. I don’t like fast women.”
“You don’t like fat women?” said Marion, completely mishearing. “I don’t believe you,” she said confidently. There was no way Marion would believe such a thing, she knew just by the way this man had been looking at her; he must be joking. “Besides, you should like us. Overweight women have more sex. It’s of a lack of impulse control you see, the ‘Big Girls’ are more likely to say yes to your advances. Overweight women are simply more impulsive; even when it’s nothing to do with food.”
“No, no, no Marion,” said Peter opening the door laughing, “you misunderstand me...” Marion interrupted.
“You see, it’s not that we are desperate, it’s that we can’t say no to a good thing. Like chocolate and crisps!” She laughed loudly, and Peter smiled at her.
“I said I don’t like fast women, you fool. And I was joking!” With that he grabbed hold of her love handles and pulled her towards him. “I love your body and I can’t wait to get my hands on it.” He kissed her hard and deep, and she felt briefly violated in a strange sense, since this was the first man in a long time to make her feel this good. He was taking control. She could feel his big hands exploring the top of her skirt, lifting up her flimsy, low cut top to find a side zip or some kind of access point to get his hand between the waist band and her flesh. Marion guided him to the side and put his fingers on the zipper. He laughed against her mouth whilst he was kissing her and proceeded to unzip her skirt. It fell to the floor and Marion felt the evening warm air on her ass, shortly followed by Peter’s firm, massaging grip. He cupped both of her ass cheeks from underneath with his forearms and hugged them close before letting them go. He did this a few times whilst he groped her. Marion was busting to get his cock out; her pussy was wet and aching for some attention. She moved his hands again, this time to the sides of her white thong and pushed them in order to make him pull them down. He did this without question, and she wrestled the jacket and shirt from his back, hurtling them to the floor. Peter went down with the white thong and she could feel his chest and shoulders rub against the tops of her legs as he lowered himself. Marion rested her soft hands on his shoulders as he went also, as though she was guiding him, and Peter began to claw at her thick thighs to get to her pussy. She gasped as he thrust his face in between her thighs and shook his head around. Marion’s hands stroked up Peter’s neck and gently rubbed his ears and hair before they reached out to grab something. Her knees began to buckle with excitement as Peter motioned her to the cubicle and pushed her through the open doorway. She let out a little shriek as he pushed her backwards onto the toilet seat and spread her legs wide. She could still feel his hands trapped under her ass, squeezing and kneading her cheeks as he started to lick her. Marion loved to be licked; it almost always made her cum like crazy, especially if she was in a position to point her toes. She kicked off her shoes and did this, slightly raising her legs from the floor, making her thigh muscles ache a little. Peter was flicking her swollen clit fast, with the very end of his tongue and slurping the juicy produce of her snatch every so often, just like it was a ripened fruit. Marion allowed her weight to keep her from sliding off the seat and she lifted her arms from the side of the toilet to take off her top. She had neglected to wear a very effective bra tonight and in all the confusion one of her boobs had fallen out anyway. She threw her top onto the pile just outside the cubicle with Peter’s jacket and shirt. She brought her hands back down onto Peter’s head and pushed him further into her as though he was a sex toy, there for her pleasure alone. She felt her ass muscles start to tense and all the muscles inside her started to spasm as she approached her climax. She raised her legs even further off the floor and became rigid with pleasure. Finally she moved to the side and grabbed one of Peter’s hands, moving it quite roughly up to her exposed breast. As Peter made mumbling noises from around her pussy and squeezed her thick pointed nipple, Marion gave way to an overwhelming climax.
Marion went as limp as someone who had fainted. She felt completely spent. “Oh my god, that was fantastic,” she said out of breath. She looked down and became briefly embarrassed. What did I do? She thought to herself, as she gently stroked the top of Peter’s head. Peter surfaced with a wet mouth and chin. He licked his lips and smiled at her. He grabbed a little toilet tissue and wiped the rest of his face before approaching Marion for a kiss. They kissed deep again and Marion felt her pussy twitching for more action. She had to have his cock. He stood up whilst they were kissing and bent over her. Marion stroked her hands down his body and teased the hairs on his chest with the fingers of one hand as she moved the other one down for a squeeze of Peter’s prick. Peter had managed to get both Marion’s tits out while he was still kissing her. She could see him trying to get at everything at the same time and it made her smile. He was kissing her deeply and looking into her eyes, yet he was also trying to strain his vision down to look at the big tits he was fondling. She unzipped his flares and she could feel the throbbing cock from within his trousers even before she managed to circle her fingers into his boxer shorts and get it out. “Oh yes,” she said through her kissing as she finally held his hardened cock in her hands, “this is lovely.” They stopped kissing and Peter stood upright as though he were showing off a trophy. She couldn’t take her eyes off his body, especially his cock, as she gripped it and gently circled her hand around, and up and down it in a slow wanking motion. She took her other hand to his abdomen and stroked just underneath his tummy, then down and around his heavy balls. She gave them a little squeeze and he let out a gasp; it was hard to tell if it was in pleasure or pain. They felt very full. She held them in her hand as though she was testing the weight of a couple of plums in the supermarket, and then she moved her fingers further underneath to the spot between his balls and his asshole. She felt him shudder as she gently rubbed this area and wanked him off at the same time. By this time Marion was more than ready to fuck Peter, so she stood up in front of him and allowed him to lift her heavy boobs in a crazily excited schoolboy fashion, feeling his cock twitch and spasm against the folds of her tummy and thighs. Eventually she turned around and put her hands on the tiled wall behind the toilet, inviting him to enter her from behind. Peter didn’t waste any time at all, and the wetness of her pussy guided him in easily. Marion let her head drop as she felt the big cock push into her, straight to the hilt; in fact she thought for a moment she may have to move away from him a little, but she bought the bullet and stood her ground. It felt good. Peter just left it still inside her for a few seconds, twitching and pulsing, as though it was climatising itself to the new environment. Marion started to move against him, grinding herself back onto his cock as though she had an itch she couldn’t quite reach. She felt Peter’s hands on the bottom of her back, massaging and stroking her lovingly. She relaxed then and allowed him to penetrate her as slow as he wanted. Eventually she felt more weight as he leaned over her, and she felt his skin on her back as he reached around to get at her boobs. She looked down at herself and could see them swinging in time with Peter’s thrusts. There was no way Peter could get hold of them, they were too big, but it looked like he was enjoying touching them and stopping them from swinging when he desired. Marion moved one of her hands between her legs and started to rub her clit. She tapped on it and made it twitch and throb. Inside she felt good and ready and before too much longer she was flicking her clit frantically, alternating between a fast speed and increased pressure. Then she started kicking out one of her legs and the two of them started to lose their balance. Peter started to speed up to a max and his thrusts were no longer distinguishable inside her. She came for the second time and just as she relaxed her body Peter yanked his cock out and grabbed Marion’s hand.
“Wank it off!” he ordered. Marion obliged him and turned to sit on the toilet seat again with Peter’s slippery prick in her grip. It took her three short firm thrusts to send the contents of his balls all over the toilet cubicle, and all over Marion’s hand and arm. Peter almost collapsed on the floor but managed to support himself on the side of the cubicle. They were silent for around five minutes before they made a move. Marion was totally spent.
The two of them cleaned up and dressed so comfortably together it was as though they had been married for years. They tidied the room up and made plans to go home together that very evening. They approached the toilet door. “Now what?” asked Peter, suddenly nervous that he was going to open the door to a bunch of smiling faces and loud applause.
“The Time Warp’s on?” said Marion, with a big smile.
Copyright © Les Hansom 2009
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